


Tonight is Mine

by charis2770



Series: Finding Vengeance...or is it Something Else? [28]
Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Aftermath of Violence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, D/s relationship, M/M, Slash, Surprising tenderness from violent men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2014-10-08
Packaged: 2018-02-20 09:14:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2423309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charis2770/pseuds/charis2770
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Feilong is finally cleared for normal sexual activity by the doctor, declared healed from the injuries he sustained at the hands of his ex-family in the Baishe clan. Asami is a little surprised when Yoh comes to him and asks him to take care of Feilong tonight, but it becomes clear when Yoh explains that he himself hasn't been cleared to receive yet, and he wants to prove to Feilong that he doesn't blame HIM for the rape he suffered at the behest of the same men, though they used Feilong's body to do it. He wants their first time together after their rescue to be intended to prove to Feilong that he does still want him that way.</p><p>Asami's really not at all sorry he feels that way. And takes this night to show Feilong how very attractive he still finds him, scars and all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tonight is Mine

**Author's Note:**

> Once again you're going to see Asami acting in what you may think is a bit of an OOC manner. Personally, I don't think it's all that out of character for him. In the manga, he's beginning to show flashes of sentimentality and tenderness, even if they're still a bit subtle, and in my series, he and everybody else have grown up considerably and dealt with a lot of their issues to become the sort of men worthy of the kind of trust needed for a successful BDSM relationship.
> 
> There's no kink in this chapter, and I'm sorry, you'll just have to get used to the disappointment. There's some mention of it, and a few juicy threats, but other than that, this part is about showing Feilong how glad Asami is that he didn't die, and helping him get past thinking his scars disfigure him.
> 
> Don't worry. Neither of them is going permanently soft. They're be back to twisted soon enough.
> 
> I'd love to hear what you think, if it's not a bother, and as always, thanks for reading!!

Yoh clears his throat quietly to announce his presence. It’s habit more than necessity. Asami knows he’s there.

 

“How is he?” asks the billionaire when Yoh has been gestured into the room and given a seat.

 

“He’s much better. His ribs have set sufficiently that they should stay set unless he does something stupid. The bruising has faded to nothing more than a few faint yellow marks, and the scabbing has healed. He’s….he’s going to scar.” He looks down at the drink Asami has poured him, one he’s free to enjoy as he’s no longer always “on duty.” It still feels strange. He grips the heavy lead crystal tightly and frowns. “He thinks he deserves the scars.”

 

“I know he does. It frustrates me as well,” says Asami. “But perhaps we do him a disservice by trying to convince him he does not?”

 

“What the f….what do you mean?” demands Yoh through gritted teeth, battling down his impulse to shout at Asami for saying such a thing.

 

“Perhaps if we treated them as badges of honor rather than badges of shame, the sight of them would cease to pain all of us? He bore that beating for you, to buy time. Every blow to his flesh, every moment they spent torturing him was a moment they didn’t spend torturing you any further. We have such a tendency to protect him. From himself, sometimes. Perhaps we forget that he’s as capable of protecting us sometimes too. How many times have you saved his life, Yoh?”

 

“I don’t keep track,” says Yoh softly, but Asami’s words are making him think.

 

“I can promise you that he does. Have you not thought that the beating he took may well have saved yours that night? You had no value to them, save as a pawn to force his compliance. They had no need or even desire for vengeance against you. You were taken purely to get to Feilong, and he knew it. They were going to kill you first, to get to him, and had no need to keep you functioning because they didn’t need your cooperation or to gain any information from you before your death the way they did from Feilong. If they’d needed to coerce him further, they might have ripped out your tongue, or cut off your hand. Or something else. Every second they were focused on the pain being inflicted upon him bought you a few more seconds as a whole person, and gave us time to get to you.”

 

“I’ve honestly never thought of it that way,” says Yoh, spine straightening, eyes clearing. He’s been walking around feeling sorrow and guilt for the scars on Feilong’s beautiful skin, but how differently Asami has helped him to see them, all of a sudden.

 

“You would have if it’d been you on the receiving end of that stick,” says Asami. And he is right. “Better now?”

 

“I am, actually. Thanks. But that’s not really why I wanted to see you. He’s about to climb out of his own skin he’s so twitchy, now that he’s better. He’s been cleared by the doctor for...mmphm.”

 

“That will come as a considerable relief for all of us,” says Asami with a smirk. A bored, horny and frustrated Feilong has been less than delightful company for the past couple of weeks. “Surely you’re not asking my permission to fuck him!”

 

“No,” says Yoh, frowning at his hand where the bandage is much smaller, but still present. He flexes the fingers, as he’s been ordered to do, to begin to regain flexibility. “It’s not that. I’ve been cleared for that, myself, if I want to do it. As it happens...I don’t.”

 

Asami sits back, steepling his fingers under his nose and looking at Yoh speculatively, giving the other man time to get to the point in his own way. Yoh sighs.

 

“I can’t bottom yet. I want...the first time we’re together again, that’s the way I want it to be, because I want to prove to him that I’ll still want it, and still enjoy it, and that nothing he was forced to do to me has damaged my trust in him.”

 

“I see. No, I really do,” says Asami as Yoh leans forward, opening his mouth to explain himself better. “And I think you’re right. He is worried about that. I believe it’s a wise choice. That’s the best way to get through to him when he’s got something fixed in his head. Just show him. So you’re...here to ask me to fuck him tonight?”

 

“If you don’t mind,” says Yoh a little stiffly. Asami chuckles.

 

“Though it would be my right to demand it if I pleased, I was going to give this night to you when it came, because of what you’ve been through together. I’m glad you came to talk to me about it. Yes, I’d like to do it. I’m not sorry you want to wait, because he’s a pleasure when he’s eager, and I’m sure he is.”

 

Yoh makes a face at him.

 

“Actually if you could render him briefly less eager, I’d be grateful. He’s been trying to get me to fuck him for a week. He’s very determined. Punishing him doesn’t help at ALL, it only encourages him. I’ve decided I’m going to be more determined than ever to keep him safe after this. He’s a terrible patient! If he ever gets hurt again in such a way that he can’t function sexually in the manner to which he’s accustomed, it’s possible I shall gag and hogtie him and leave him in a closet to recover. Or not.”

 

Yoh takes his leave with Asami’s laughter following him down the hall to the stairs where he stomps back down to his own condo to find Feilong waiting for him.

 

“Where did you go?”

 

“I had to ask Asami something.”

 

“What?”

 

“Feilong, I swear by every god anyone has ever worshipped, I love you more than my own soul but I’m about ready to strangle you.”

 

“Hm. We haven’t tried erotic asphyxia…” muses Feilong with a naughty sparkle in his eyes. Yoh points at him forbiddingly.

 

“Stop. You’re healed enough for a real spanking, but I can promise you it would hurt like hell, because you’re still tender, especially with all that new skin from under your cuts.”

 

Feilong looks speculative. Yoh throws his hands up in surrender.

 

“I give up. You have no sense of self-preservation whatsoever! There’s nothing I can threaten you with that doesn’t just...turn you on!”

 

Feilong puts his arms around Yoh and leans his head on his shoulder.

 

“You could threaten to leave me,” he says softly.

 

“I will never do that.”

 

*****************************************************************************************

 

He watches from the hallway. Feilong is in the spare room of Yoh’s condo that they’ve transformed into a home gym of sorts. There’s a nautilus machine, treadmill, some free weights, and a wide space covered with tatami mats. There are plants scattered about, some paintings and samples of Feilong’s calligraphy as well as a few of Aki’s photographs on the walls, a small electric fountain of black stone in a corner, and an aromatherapy cabinet that contains essential oil warmers and incense. The scent of basil and eucalyptus and lavender perfumes the air gently. Feilong is doing katas in the center of the tatami mats. Asami likes watching him. There is never a time Feilong is more beautiful to him than when he does this, his body perfectly in tune with itself and with his mind. His lovely face is serene, his powerful muscles perfectly controlled. He epitomizes deadly grace, every movement precise and fluid at the same time. Although Asami certainly has cause to enjoy Feilong’s flexibility in bed, it is only here that he pauses to actually take note of it and really appreciate it, when Feilong balances on one foot and touches the back of his head with other other one, standing perfectly still without a single muscle twitching or trembling for so long that Asami’s muscles start to ache FOR him. He recognizes the kata Fei usually finishes with, so he steps to the doorway, allows the lust he feels for this beautiful, complicated man to show in his eyes. Wants Feilong to see the heat and know what’s coming to him. Feilong finishes and turns, sensing someone’s presence. His dark eyes meet Asami’s heavy gaze and his lips part.

 

“Oh,” he whispers.

 

“Come with me,” says Asami softly, and, knowing he’ll be obeyed, turns and makes his way to the back stairs to climb back up to his own home, Feilong right behind him. He can practically feel the other man vibrating with eagerness. He goes no further than the play room when he pushes open the panel which accesses the hidden stair connecting the two floors. Feilong’s eyes take in the heavy cross and padded sawhorse, the harnesses and restraints, the sex toys and floggers and crops hanging on the walls and a small sound of hunger escapes his lips. Asami smiles.

 

“You want all of it, don’t you, beautiful one?”

 

“Yes,” says Feilong, grinning, unapologetic.

 

“Well, you’re not getting it.”

 

Feilong’s eyes widen and he takes a half-step back, quickly covering the tiny flash of hurt in his eyes with the look of bland disinterest he’s always tried to show when he’s confused or distressed. Asami hates the look. He steps over to Feilong and grabs his wrist, squeezing too hard so the bones grind together. Feilong’s lashes flutter and he sighs softly.

 

“Don’t give me that look,” growls Asami softly. “You want pain, want a good going-over with any and everything I’ll use on you, but you’re not ready yet. Soon, but not tonight. What you get, FeiFei, is me. I’m going to take you. Slowly. Deeply. Until you’re mad with desperation. I’ll ruin you Feilong, but with pleasure. I nearly lost you. No!” He snaps out the last when Feilong opens his mouth to protest. “No. I nearly lost you. I was going to give Yoh this night, but he wishes to wait until he’s healed enough for  you  to take  him. And I’ll admit I’m not sorry. I want this, for it to be me, my hands, my mouth, my cock that fill you tonight, the first time since we freed you both that it is safe to do so. It’s selfish, but I’m glad it’s me. Take off your clothes.”

 

Feilong doesn’t hesitate. It’s one of a multitude of things Asami finds so attractive about him now, that since Asami proved himself worthy of Feilong’s trust, his ability to submit seems to be absolute. He also wears clothing it’s very simple to shed most of the time. A single tie and toggle off his white tunic-style shirt and a tug at the drawstring of his simple cotton trousers followed swiftly by his grey boxer briefs and he stands naked before Asami. He’s lost a little weight during his recovery from his injuries, having little appetite for much of the time. Well, when Akihito notices, they can probably all expect meals running heavier to protein than usual for a while.

 

He doesn’t comment on it though. Even short six or seven pounds, Feilong is still breathtakingly lovely. 

 

“Have I told you that you’re beautiful?” he murmurs close to Feilong’s ear, having stepped quickly and silently to his lover’s side when Feilong’s eyes had fluttered closed as he’d stood, waiting to see what Asami wishes of him. Feilong sucks in a tiny breath, but doesn’t startle. Even if he hasn’t heard Asami move, he’s sensed his presence. But the warmth of breath at his neck makes him shiver a little anyway.

 

“Not  today, ” he says cautiously. Asami knows damned well it’s been a little longer than that, because he recalls the last time perfectly well. Promising Feilong he was and would continue to be as beautiful as ever the night they’d brought him home from that warehouse, the one containing several slaughtered Chinese gangsters. A call to Kuroda had taken care of the clean-up, though Asami assumes he owes the man considerably more than a hard-to-find collectible in return for that night’s favor. 

 

“How the fuck am I supposed to explain five dead Chinese nationals to my superiors or the Chinese government?” he’d hissed furiously.

 

“Six,” Asami had said absently, much more concerned with stopping the blood dripping from the scores of cuts down Feilong’s back, buttocks and thighs.

 

“Six what?” Kuroda had demanded, sounding tired. Poor Kuroda. Asami hadn’t felt even a little bit guilty, then or now.

 

“Six dead Chinese nationals. Load them into a boat and dump them in the East China Sea where the tide will wash them ashore somewhere near Shanghai. They’re criminals. I promise you the Chinese government will do cartwheels when they’re found. There won’t be much of an investigation.”

 

Kuroda had grumbled a little more, but regardless of whatever issues may arise between them, Asami does his best not to lie to the man, and Kuroda knows it. The bodies had vanished, the warehouse had been scoured clean of evidence. Asami won’t be surprised to read about an unexplained fire destroying an abandoned property in the Keiyo district sometime soon.

 

Before that night, extolling Feilong’s beauty had never been one of Asami’s habits, but Feilong has always known he’s pretty, and Asami had never wished his lovely, vain pet to suspect that Asami was interested in him because of his looks, so he’s never dwelt on them much. He’d seen the expression on Feilong’s face when he’d realized how badly his flesh had been lacerated by the sjambok though. Seen him start to wonder how much he’d be worth, once the wounds were healed and he was left as damaged goods. Known that proving Feilong’s worth to him would be work for another night, and so he’d murmured reassurances into Fei’s ear as the pain medication Kirishima had deftly injected into a vein had taken effect, and been glad enough to see him relax a little.

 

“I don’t tell you often,” he says softly, but not apologetically, “because my feelings for you have almost nothing to do with your looks. But you are beautiful to me, Bishounen. Moreso now than before.”

 

Feilong looks at him sharply, skepticism plain on his face.

 

Asami steps behind him and traces the scars on Feilong’s back.

 

“I know how much these hurt,” he says softly. Feilong stiffens a little, but Asami doesn’t stop. “I’ve felt the sjambok’s stroke before. It was given to educate, and meant to hurt, but not to torture. I didn’t bleed as you did, but I carried the bruises for 2 weeks. I am in awe of what you did, for love. What you bore, to spare him. Such courage, hand in hand with such beauty. These scars are marks of honor, Feilong.”

 

“You don’t find them hideous?” whispers Feilong uncertainly. Asami lets his fingers trace lower scars, and kisses the ones on Feilong’s back, especially the deep ones where the sjambok struck so hard the white bone of his scapula showed through the blood and swollen flesh.

 

“I find them  exquisite,” Asami whispers back. One arm wraps around Feilong’s chest and holds him close, his back to Asami’s front, while the hand tracing the scars on his ass stops, fingers working gently between the other man’s tensed buttocks to brush against the small pucker of his anus. Feilong gasps a little and relaxes, the nervous tension leaving his body. Asami kisses the side of his neck, nipping gently and laving away the small sting with his tongue. He steps back and turns Feilong in his arms. Hands bury themselves in the luxurious silk of Fei’s hair and tug softly. The shorter man moans and lets his head fall back. Asami captures the moan with his lips and kisses Fei deeply, humming with pleasure at the small whimper of desire this drags from his lover’s throat. Still kissing him, Asami walks Feilong into the bedroom and guides him down onto the big bed. Looking down at him, golden eyes roving up and down Feilong’s body, he takes off his own clothes, enjoying the lustful way Fei gazes at him, and the impatience in those dark eyes.

 

“Are you eager for me, beautiful one?” he asks, his voice a deep bass rumble in his chest.

 

“I’m always eager for you, Asami-sama,” says Feilong softly, a faint blush suffusing his fair cheeks with pink. “But you don’t know what it has been like these weeks, for a vain creature such as myself who needs to be...tended to...in more ways than most...to not be able to be touched in those ways. And to...to not know if my lovers would still want to. If I were disfigured. N-no longer beautiful.”

 

“Mm,” muses Asami, slipping into the bed next to Feilong and leaning down to tease the peak of one pink nipple with his tongue, “I believe I shall punish you for allowing yourself to think such things when your skin is well enough to receive the whipping I intend to give you for it.”

 

“Oh,” gasps Feilong, arching into his touch like a cat, “do you promise?”

 

“I promise,” purrs Asami, then sucks the nipple into his mouth and uses his lips and tongue, with only the barest application of teeth, to render both Feilong’s pretty pink nipples into painfully tight, sensitive little sharp peaks. Pinching one gently, he moves up to bite Fei’s collarbone and then his throat with careful teeth, not hard enough to leave a mark, merely hard enough to tease. He finds he doesn’t care to see more marks on Feilong’s lovely skin tonight, though it’s a strange desire for one such as he. Not that he doesn’t find the other man extremely desirable wearing nothing but the marks Asami gives him. He just doesn’t want to see them until every sign of bruising from the vicious beating his erstwhile cousin had given him is but a memory. Feilong reaches for him, and he captures both questing hands with one of his own, drawing them above Feilong’s head and wringing a hungry moan from Fei’s throat.

 

“I don’t want to bind you tonight,” he mutters into the soft skin under Feilong’s ear. “I will if I have to, but what I want is for you to just lie there like a good boy and let me...let me...love you…” The words only catch in his throat a little. Not because he doesn’t mean them, but because the two of them don’t resort to such base sentiment often. It isn’t something they need or want from one another...not that they’re not capable. Well, perhaps they weren’t prior to their association with a certain nosy photographer...but there are things they seek from Akihito...things Feilong seeks from Yoh...and then there are the things they seek from each other. And those are dark dreams, visceral needs, the gift of stripping away masks and staring unashamed and unapologetic into one another’s abyss and find that the abyss staring back likes you just fine the way you are. Asami knows Feilong is nearly mad to be taken, dominated and put back into his place, but he finds himself with an uncharacteristic desire to remove the doubt from those dark eyes when Feilong whispers that he doesn’t think they’ll find him beautiful anymore. Doesn’t want it to be only Yoh and Aki who are able to do that for Feilong.  “I’ll punish you for it, FeiFei,” he promises, “but only once I’ve proven how wrong you are first. Can you let me? Tell me now, because it’s what you’re getting, with or without your cooperation.”

 

He sees the desire for the cuffs warring on Feilong’s face with a soft, awed amazement at Asami’s words, and he’s pleased when the latter seems to win. Feilong looks up at him, a little stunned, and nods, having to clear his throat before he speaks.

 

“Yes,” he breathes softly. “I...yes.” He stops reflexively struggling against Asami’s grip on his wrists, and when Asami lets go, he crosses them above his head and nods.

 

“My beautiful one,” murmurs Asami, kissing him, sweetly at first, and then more deeply, his tongue sweeping in to claim Feilong’s mouth, beckoning with his tongue and then sucking on Fei’s when it is returned. Feilong moans softly into the kiss. Asami’s right hand skims down his body to his hip and pins him to the bed, his thumb brushing back and forth over the supremely soft skin at the hollow where his hip and thigh join. Then he bends down and slowly takes Feilong’s cock in his mouth, swallowing it down until his nose is buried in the sparse, fine curls at Feilong’s groin. Feilong’s groan is almost pained, and he arches into Asami’s mouth helplessly. Asami’s lips curve around his shaft.

 

Asami, to put it baldly, loves sucking cock. He pities the men who claim it’s distasteful, that it’s too subservient, that no Dominant worth his salt should stoop to servicing his boy that way. He’s never had another man more at his mercy than when he’s got his lips wrapped around their erection and they’re moaning helplessly while he wrecks every ounce of composure they’ve ever dreamed of having. And in the unlikely eventuality that his penchant for orally pleasuring a lover ever gives one airs, makes them think it means they can grab him by the head and fuck into his throat like they own him, well, he’s got teeth hasn’t he? Not that he’ll ever have to worry about that with his current lovers. Feilong keeps his hands above his head, even if he does clench his fists so tightly his nails dig into his palms, and writhes helplessly. 

 

And aside from the erotic control it gives him, Asami simply loves everything about oral sex. He loves the flavors and textures or it, be his lover male or female. Loves the velvety slide of satiny skin over stony hardness, the contrast of it. Enjoys the way a cock is both iron-hard and yet also supremely delicate. He loves the mysterious folds and valleys, the taste and texture of a woman’s pussy too, the way a clit swells between his nibbling teeth and the astonishing way her body yields to being invaded. But that’s something he hasn’t thought about in quite some time, because a woman hasn’t caught his attention in ages. Not when he has such beauty, such sweetness and such filth, such delights to suit his every mood and desire at his beck and call at any hour of any day. Akihito and Feilong have filled every aching void in his black soul. He can’t imagine how it should be so, how he could possibly deserve it, but he’s grabbed on with both greedy fists and he’s not letting go. He strokes the flat of his tongue over the little knot of sensitive skin at the base of the head of Feilong’s cock and sucks harder.

 

“Ah...ah...Asami,” gasps Feilong, his hips rolling helplessly, “I’m...if you don’t stop I’m going to…. fuck ...going to come…”

 

Asami nods and growls softly around Feilong’s erection, pulling back until it nearly slips from between his lips, then swallows him down again, wrenching a sound that is very nearly a scream from Fei’s throat. He slides a hand between silky thighs and presses his thumb to Feilong’s taint, putting steady pressure there. Feilong throws his head back and cries out, eyes wide and blind as he comes helplessly down Asami’s throat. Asami swallows him down. Feilong always seems to him to taste vaguely of incense and smoke. He’s always wondered if the latter is because of Fei’s tendency to lick his fingers and the tips of his brushes when he paints and draws calligraphy and his ink is made in the old tradition from ground wood charcoal and soot. Feilong collapses against the pillows as though shot, gasping for breath. Asami crawls back up beside him and grins, leaning on one elbow and brushing strands of silk from Fei’s flushed face. At length, those lovely onyx eyes open, framed by sooty lashes too pretty for the man’s own good. He blushes prettily.

 

“N….ah….not that I don’t appreciate it,” says Feilong a little self-consciously, “but why did you…”

 

“Because,” growls Asami softly, “by the time I’m ready to fuck you, you’d last less than a minute if I hadn’t taken the edge off your need, pretty pet.” And he flips Feilong over.

 

“Oh,” gasps the other man in sudden understanding as the cheeks of his ass are forcibly spread and Asami dips his head down to tickle the small whorled opening to his body with the tip of his tongue.

 

It’s another thing he enjoys that he’s heard frequently criticized, but as Feilong slowly turns into a helpless, writhing, panting mess, Asami chuckles to himself at how stupid and closed-minded some people are. Of course rimming isn’t pleasant when one’s...victim...isn’t clean, but Feilong is  ha terribly anal about hygiene, so it’s never an issue. Except for the desperate squirming and twitching, having one’s asshole thoroughly tongue-fucked practically paralyzes most people, puts them completely at his mercy. Since he hasn’t got much, this suits Asami right down to the ground. He teases. He tickles. He forces his tongue right the fuck inside Feilong’s quivering hole. He licks and flicks and strokes until Fei is sobbing with need and fully hard again, totally losing track of time and not caring one bit. Finally, when his tongue is aching and Feilong’s poor neglected asshole is soft and wet and practically sucks his finger in when he probes gently at it, Asami relents, sitting up and reaching for the little glass jar of lube. 

 

He loves their response to the scent when he unscrews the lid. The proprietary blend of herbs his “secret herbalist witch” uses smells good enough to eat (and indeed it is edible) and the warm scents of ginger and vanilla and burnt sugar and faint whiff of cinnamon cause an instantaneous and atavistic response from Akihito and Feilong. There are only trace amounts of the spicier ingredients, but it’s enough to lend the slippery substance the faintest warming quality to soft tissues, and whatever she puts in it that can’t be smelled or even explained as far as he knows seems to somehow make it easier to loosen up tight rectal muscles so that even a fast and dirty approach to ass fucking doesn’t cause as much discomfort as it otherwise might. In fact, when Feilong’s in the mood for it to hurt, he usually asks Asami to use plain store-bought lubricant. He’d be out of luck tonight though if that was what he was after. Asami grins to himself at Feilong’s soft moan when the subtle fragrance perfumes the air. He dips his finger in and gently teases Fei’s entrance, swirling the substance around and pushing no more than the very tip of his finger inside before taking it out and tracing soft circles again.

 

His eyes take in the sight of the marks on Feilong’s back side as he slowly and torturously uses one finger to slick his tight hole. It’s even tighter than usual because Feilong hasn’t had sex in close to three weeks. The places where the healing cuts broke open during his recovery are shiny and pink with barely-healed new skin, and will soon become white scars once the healing is complete. The places where the cuts didn’t bleed anew due to Feilong’s inability (or refusal) to rest properly are further along, the skin a darker pink and with proper moisturizing will probably not scar. The bruises are only very faint yellow marks now, with a couple of the very worst ones still having a greenish cast. Even though he claims to be anxious for the rough play he craves, Feilong really isn’t ready for it. His newly formed skin is tender and if not raw, still very delicate, and even though the bruises may not hurt to be sat or laid upon or poked at, Asami wouldn’t bet on them not hurting under the influence of a flogger. Poor Fei will have to settle for having the fronts and insides of his thighs and his nipples and other more creative parts of his anatomy disciplined when he’s acting tiresome. He’s heard Yoh can be fucking inventive though, and  knows  HE is, so he doubts Feilong is going to suffer too much neglect. He’s going to be one sorry prima donna the next time he throws a temper tantrum in Asami’s presence now that he’s been cleared for sex. With no healing scabs he’s not allowed to disturb on his ass anymore, there’s nothing preventing Asami from bending him over and making him hold himself open to have that tender little hole whipped nice and red. It’s damned effective at reining Fei in and has the added side benefit of turning him on so badly he’ll do anything to get fucked good and hard, even though it makes it sting like mad to take a cock into a well-punished asshole. He grins wickedly at the thought and makes a mental note to suggest it to Yoh in case he hasn’t thought of it himself. Or Feilong hasn’t already suggested it, the slut.

 

The voice of the slut in question snaps him out of his reverie. Feilong is digging his fingers into the sheets above his head (he’s kept his hands there, good as his word, though it seems to be causing him considerable difficulty right now) and chanting the same word over and over again, softly and a little plaintively.

 

“Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease….”

 

He relents a little and slowly adds a second finger, and Feilong lets out a long, low groan and lifts his ass towards Asami’s gentle pressure, trying to work himself harder and faster. Asami just stops altogether until Feilong whines softly and goes still, then removes his painstaking erotic assault on his impatient lover’s greedy little hole. Crooking his fingers exactly right inside the warm, silky heat of fei’s body, he unerringly rubs them slowly over the other man’s prostate, wrenching a howl from Fei. Chuckling again, he does it some more, because he can. Softly rubbing and pressing against that sensitive little bundle of nerves, he scissors his fingers apart just a little at a time, and Feilong nods frantically in approval, asking for more both with words and with the way his body lifts into the slow, easy thrusts. 

 

“Asami,” pants Feilong, his lovely contralto voice a needy, frustrated growl, “you’re trying to kill me. I’m  ready !”

 

“Oh believe me, I can tell,” says Asami, humor warm in his voice. “The way this part of you is sucking my fingers in...I love that you’re so eager for me. But you’re just going to have to wait a little longer. I don’t savor your body slowly often enough, beautiful one. I’ve never told you how hard it was to walk away...to get up from that bed where I had you pinned, staring up at me with the world in those dark eyes, your beautiful hair surrounding you, your lips parted as you gasped in fear and desire, hunger for my kiss written all over your face, just a boy still really, your young cock hard against my hand when I felt it through your pants...that day, so many years ago….I wanted to take you, to teach you everything, make you mine. I almost did. It would have been wrong. You were so lost then, Fei...and I’m so sorry. Not sorry that I did the right thing in not taking advantage of you. I’m sorry for all the pain…”

 

“No,” interrupts Feilong, his elegant brows drawing together in a frown as he looks over his shoulder. “Haven’t you told me time and again that there is no more need for apologies between us? You’re here  now,  and it’s so much better between us now than it could have been then. Ngh...you’re going to kill me though, Asami. It’s been so long. If you want me to beg…”

 

“Hush. I don’t want you to beg. You’re going to before I’m done, but that’s not why I’m taking my time. Can I not just enjoy touching you? Looking at you? You’re a...it’s like touching a work of art and petting a wild leopard all at the same time. Fei...do you know that’s the way English-speakers pronounce one of their terms for fairies and supernatural nature spirits of legend? The Fae? Suits you. Look at me, getting maudlin in my old age.”

 

Feilong snorts a bit at this, but some little bit of tension he’d still been carrying drains out of his body and he relaxes a little more. Asami knows how truly afraid Feilong has been that he’d be rejected by his lovers because of his new scars. Though he’ll probably never be able to admit it to himself, even though most of his motivation for causing them to heal badly was a sort of penance, because he feels he deserves them, Asami’s almost dead certain there is some very tiny part of Feilong that also sees the scars as a way to find out if they really do only want him because he’s beautiful. The problem with his plan, whether it’s subconscious or not, is that Asami isn’t lying when he says he finds him more beautiful now. The sight of him spread out beneath Asami like this, the sculpted muscle of his shoulders, back, his ass and his legs with that nearly fragile-looking alabaster skin overlaid with a fresh latticework of scars is more compelling than he can possibly know. Feilong is a study in contradictions. He is at once delicate, elegant and also deadly power. He is refinement and obscenity, fragility and great strength, terribly young to have seen so much, delicacy and violence, need and independence. Asami likes all of these things about Feilong. Has always liked things that are more than what they seem. Many judge Fei as shallow, vapid, casually cruel and selfish. Asami loves being one of the chosen few who see beneath the facade Fei offers the rest of the world. 

 

“I’m glad you have these,” he whispers fiercely, leaning down as he slowly works a third finger into Fei’s asshole, adding more slick and rubbing his fingers together, working him gradually open even further, to run his tongue along the line of one of the deeper scars. Feilong shudders.

 

“You...wha...why?” he gasps.

 

“They are one more layer to you that few will ever see. One more proof of how strong you are underneath your surface beauty. Evidence I can touch that you have survived, walked away, are free and that I haven’t lost you. A reminder of your courage and proof that I...that we got there in time.”

 

“You mean that,” whispers Feilong. “You...you really like them.”

 

“You deserve them,” replies Asami, pressing deeper and making Feilong whimper in response. He withdraws his fingers and slicks down his cock, which has begun to ache from neglect. He turns Feilong back over so that he looks into the younger man’s eyes as he kneels between his thighs and tilts Feilong’s hips up and slowly slides his thick erection inside his lover’s welcoming body. 

 

“Asami,” breathes Feilong, lifting his hips to meet the gentle thrust, moaning deep in his chest as the exquisite pleasure of being filled so completely thrums in his blood. It almost…. almost covers up the flicker of confusion in his eyes at Asami’s statement.

 

As he starts to move within the deliciously tight embrace of Feilong’s warm body, Asami continues.

 

“They are worthy badges for your courage,” he murmurs as he withdraws slowly...slowly...until he feels Feilong’s body tense in protest, try to hold him in, and then he sinks deep once again, angling his hips just so, and Feilong’s toes curl and his fingers above his head open and close convulsively, grasping for something more substantial and yet obeying Asami still…

 

“Aah!” he cries. Asami’s hand reaches for Fei’s hands and they tangle together.

 

“They honor your sacrifice.”

 

Feilong opens eyes he has clenched tightly and Asami sees the shine of tears as they start to blur and go blind with the pleasure he gives his lover. No, this may not be the way they do things, he and Fei, and a night such as this may never come again. He may never wish it to, but he’s not sorry for what they share now, or for showing Feilong this side of himself because although men like he and Feilong had once been will always believe love to be a weakness, then men they are  now  know better, because they’ve seen truth through the eyes of a very brave viewfinder (and really, how embarrassing to not be at least as brave as one skinny brat…). And so he doesn’t blush, doesn’t flinch, and certainly doesn’t think less of Feilong for the dazzling smile he gets in return when he says, 

 

“And they are nearly as beautiful as you are.”


End file.
